grammar girl

About two weeks ago, things were getting stale. We were feeling a little BLAH and the ho-hum-drums of everyday life were getting us down. We started daydreaming about moving, about buying a fast new car, about what it would be like if we were still in our twenties. We were basically feeling really old and boring. We determined that our lives, at least recently, did not contain enough drama. No sooner had we concluded this, than some drama (the good kind) came knocking on our door. At least enough to knock us out of our funk…

So it turns out a big fan of the shop is this nice guy named Nathan who works side by side with this nice gal named Amy, who owns a nice business called Design for Home. They were putting together a model condo in the newish 937 Building in the Pearl District and asked if we would be interested in helping them out by loaning out some of our most prized possessions to help accessorize and furnish the place. They said, “Pleeeaaase” and we said, “Why not?”. And so the fun began.

We got to spend a few days giving our two-cents about where the paintings should go and how the end table should be styled. We got to rearrange our schedule, take phone calls about the appropriate color for various vessels and search the city over for the perfect air plant to place on the dining table. This was seriously fun for us. We love this kind of stuff and we never get to do enough of it or do it in such a fancy place with such fancy people. We really want to thank Nathan and Amy for letting us help bring a little Eastside flavor into their sleek and shiny Northwest space. We think it turned out great and hope you do too. Here are a few pics we took at the open house last week:

Above, you see a picture of some super great soy candles made by local gal Amelia Blakeman of Hopeful Monsters. When we sat down to write this post we decided our feelings about these candles were best detailed in the email we sent to her right after she had dropped off some samples at the shop. Below, you can read an edited (to protect the innocent) version of that email:

Hi Amelia -

Well, we’ve made it nearly 2 and a half years dutifully refusing to sell candles. Every rep in the Pacific Northwest has tried to push ugly, smelly, garishly packaged candles on us and failed. Every one of them looking at us like we were crazy for refusing something that was such a “hot seller”. Gag. We hate candles as a general rule. It’s in our business plan.

But then we came to work today and saw YOUR candle and we were moved. There was a white, not-too-smelly, locally made candle in a beaker! (We love beakers.) This is a candle we might consider. This may be the only candle we will ever consider.

Thanks for thinking of us!
Noun

We think everyone has an inner child. It’s the part of you that likes to collect and stash things in secret hiding places. It’s the part of you that still imagines what you’ll be when you grow up even though you’re already in your thirties. It’s the part of you that instinctively reaches for the crayons to draw on the paper tablecloth at your favorite restaurant.

We definitely have an inner child and she’s the one that convinces us to buy the occasional vintage toy. She’s been popping up a lot lately and we realized we should probably point out a few of the special things she’s brought into the shop in the last few weeks:

We have an army of real-deal, lead soldiers, a stuffed giraffe wearing a vest and gold chain (we call him Griffith), a cash register bank, and the piece de resistance…a red, baby-size, baby grand piano. We’ve already sold the toy accordian she found, the toy typewriter, the Noah’s Ark animal set, and all the old wooden building blocks or else they would be in the picture, too.

If any of these things sound good to you, maybe your inner child and our inner child should meet up for a play date. She’s really good at sharing.

Local gal Gretchen Vaudt came to Noun a year or so ago selling her ceramic pinch bowls and cuter than cute heart charms (or as we like to call them, Love Tokens). We’re suckers for simple and white anything and when you throw in local and charming, we were just about dumbstruck. Gretchen’s work was a match with Noun right away and we’re happy to announce her newest creation: porcelain and earthenware pendants.

When they arrived we had a bunch of visitors start oohing and ahhing over them and we all got into a funny debate about what they looked like. One said “seashells.” Another said “candy and cupcake icing.” Then another chimed in with “ancient runes.” Whatever you think of when you look at them, everyone agrees that they’re pretty great. To us, they look like the perfect summer accessory for a neck that is finally able to come out from under all those layers of turtlenecks, wool coats and thick scarves.

We live in a pretty rainy place. There are lots of clouds that bring the rain and so we need a few more artificial light sources than our friends in sunnier, southern climates. As a result, we sell a ton of lights at the shop – mostly cool, old ones. But as we’ve said before, one cannot live on vintage alone. So a couple of years back we found some NEW lamps we thought looked real nice snuggled up all close to our vintage decor. The company who makes them is called SLIP and they make the lamps in Hickory, North Carolina. That’s right. These lamps are actually made in the USA. That never happens anymore!

SLIP lamps are characterized by their colorful bases (about 30 different colors in all), their fun, printed drum shades (about 40 fabrics to choose from), and their beautifully shaped bases (about 50 styles to drool over). We mixed and matched to create the ones you see in the picture and others you may have seen in the shop. But the real fun is when you come in and customize your own lamp. It takes about 6 to 8 weeks to do a special order, but we think it’s worth the wait. They not only shed a little light on a cloudy day but they can bring some much needed life to a hum-drum hallway.